by Reilly, Cora
I didn’t move.
She exhaled softly. “I’ve never kissed before.”
“It’s not difficult, Kiara, trust me.”
She gave me a look I couldn’t place. “Easy for you to say. How many women have you kissed?”
I couldn’t see how that was of any relevance. “One hundred and twelve. I don’t kiss every woman I fuck.”
She choked. “You’ve slept with more than one hundred women?”
“Yes. I was a late bloomer in comparison to Remo and Savio. Had my first woman at almost fifteen.”
“Then I had my first time before you,” she said bitterly, swallowing hard and staring down at the bed.
I lifted my hand and nudged her chin up to see her expression. “You haven’t had your first time yet. What you had doesn’t count. What we are going to do has absolutely nothing to do with what you experienced.”
Her eyes watered, and I dropped my hand, unsure if my words had upset her, but she scooted closer and hesitantly brought one hand up to my shoulder. “How can you say things that make me feel better when you don’t even understand what I feel?”
“I’m stating facts. That’s all.”
She laughed. “Facts.” Then her eyes lowered to my mouth, and she licked her lips. I doubted she noticed, but the sight had an immediate effect on my cock.
“Are you going to kiss me?” I asked her.
She nodded but didn’t move.
“Kiara, if you want to be in control, you actually have to take control.” She was a woman I’d have pegged as the submissive type in bed, and under normal circumstances I’d have naturally taken the lead, but as long as she was caught in the memories of her rape that would have ended badly.
She finally leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine, eyes closing. I would have preferred for her to keep them open so I had a chance of reading her, yet as it was I had no choice but to trust she’d pull back if something unsettled her.
Her lips were very soft and the pressure was light, almost nonexistent like our kiss on our wedding day. Resisting the urge to pull her closer and show her how good kissing could feel, I let her be in control. After a moment, she pulled back with a frown, her skin reddening. “This feels odd because you aren’t moving.”
“I wanted to let you be in control.”
“It’s okay if you take the initiative and lead because you know what to do and I don’t, and it’s making me nervous.”
I regarded her, not exactly sure what she needed me to do. “We had me restrained so you’d feel in control.”
“Yes, and that’s okay, but I want you to kiss me as you normally would.”
“Normally, I lead.”
She bit her lip again. Nerves. I reached for her wrist and pressed my thumb against it. She huffed out laughter. “You can lead ... I mean, you can lead without being all dominant and rough.”
“I won’t be rough with you, Kiara. And if you ever feel like I’m being too dominant, you tell me and I will adapt my behavior, all right?”
She smiled slightly, but her pulse spiked up anyway. She was very difficult to read. “Can we try again?”
“Of course. I’m going to touch your back.”
Again a spike in her pulse rate. I released her wrist and put my hand on her lower back and began rubbing it lightly with my thumb. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was soft under my touch. She leaned slightly forward until her lips almost touched mine.
Deciding to see if me taking lead would work, I caught her lips with mine, applying more pressure than she had and nudged her lips with my tongue. She parted them without hesitation and I dove in. Her taste and the soft warmth of her mouth went straight to my cock. She submitted to the kiss without hesitation, following my lead.
She yielded so easily to my demands, so readily, I knew she would continue to do so if we moved further, and it made me want to do just that, but I reined myself in.
I widened my strokes on her back, brushing over her spine. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, tightening her hold on my shoulder. Her other hand pressed up against my chest, grazing my nipple, and I kissed her a bit harder.
Moving my free hand up her back, I wanted to cup her head, but the moment I touched her neck and my fingers slid into her dark waves, she jerked back. “No,” she whispered quickly.
I pulled my hand away, seeing the remnants of panic on her face. It wasn’t a touch I’d considered problematic, so her reaction surprised me.
“Your hair?”
She gave a quick nod. “And my neck.” She swallowed. “My uncle ... he held me there ... He held me down when he forced me to ...” She looked at me with despair. I had no trouble reading it on her face, and I didn’t have to touch her wrist to know her pulse was racing because she remembered how her bastard of an uncle had forced her to suck his cock when she was only a child. And once again, I wished I had prolonged his torture. He had suffered thoroughly under mine and Remo’s hands, and yet it didn’t seem enough.
“I understand,” I said.
She shivered helplessly, and then she just fell forward, catching me by surprise as she pressed her face into the crook of my neck and began shaking. I touched her back and her shaking got worse. Then something wet hit my skin. She was crying.
“Kiara?”
She clung to my shoulders and I wrapped my free arm around her. She pressed even harder into me. I let her cry herself out. Maybe it would help her. Pulling back, she kissed me softly, her eyes probing as if she was searching for something. I returned the kiss, tasting her tears.
“I’m sorry,” she said after a moment.
“For what?”
“For becoming emotional.” She sighed and closed her eyes briefly. Then she opened them again and nodded toward the cuff. “Where’s the key?”
“Drawer.”
She leaned over me and gave me a look at her round, firm butt. My body definitely reacted strongly to her assets. She unlocked the handcuff. “I think I’m going to take a bath.” I didn’t stop her as she retreated into the bathroom.
Instead, I walked out and headed for our gaming room. Remo was there, sprawled out on the sofa, watching the latest cage fights in Roger’s Arena.
He glanced toward me as I sank down on the armchair, reached for the bottle of bourbon on the table, and poured a glass.
Remo nodded toward my wrist, which had red marks from the metal cuffs. “What happened there? Already getting kinky with your wife?”
“Kiara’s scared of my physical strength, so I cuffed myself to the bed.”
Remo leaned back, eyebrows raised. “As if that would stop you.”
“It wouldn’t, but she feels safer, and that’s what this is about. She needs to feel comfortable around me.”
Remo narrowed his eyes. “So you still haven’t fucked her?”
I took a sip of the bourbon. “We didn’t progress beyond kissing, so no.”
Remo was quiet for a moment, and that was usually never a good sign. “You have the patience of a saint. Do you want me to call some entertainment over?”
“I agreed to not seek out other women anymore.”
Remo laughed. “Right.” And then sobered. “You are being serious?”
“I am.”
“Are you trying to become a straight-laced citizen?”
“I have no ambitions in that regard, no.”
Remo shook his head. “First Fabiano, now you. Why’s everyone becoming pussy-whipped?”
“Since I’m not getting any pussy, your term is misleading.”
“Oh, fuck you, Nino. Don’t be a fucking smartass. Do you really think you can make a marriage work? Even if you don’t fuck other women, you won’t be a caring husband and you know it.”
I shrugged. “I know, but for now I’m going to give this a try and see where it takes me.”
“So this is some kind of scientific experiment for you?”
“Maybe.” It was something new, something I had no experience with and couldn’t say
how I’d deal with it long-term, but I was curious and Kiara wanted this marriage to be real.
CHAPTER 16
KIARA
I couldn’t sleep after the kiss. My mind replayed it. Nino’s mouth had been so warm and gentle. It was nothing like I’d imagined, nothing like I’d feared. He managed to surprise me every day and had done so since our wedding night.
The door creaked open and someone stepped in. Opening my eyes, I peered through the gap in the blankets. I had them pulled up to my ears because it made me feel safer that way. I left on the light in the bathroom because the dark still held power over me. I could see Nino’s tall form in the warm glow.
My cheeks heated when his eyes settled on me. I’d fled into the bathroom after our kiss, not because of it, though. I had been embarrassed about breaking down and crying in Nino’s arms. I needed time to get a grip on myself. For a man as controlled and emotionless as Nino, being married to me must be a particular difficult task for him. In the beginning, I was sure my marriage to Nino was punishment for my father’s actions, but now I was fairly sure he was the one that could have made a better deal.
“It’s late,” he murmured.
“I can’t sleep.”
He nodded before he moved into the bathroom and closed the door. Barely any light spilled into the bedroom through the narrow gap beneath the door, but I focused my eyes on it and listened to the sound of running water.
After a few minutes, Nino came back out, dressed in briefs. I knew he preferred to sleep naked and now only wore clothes at night to set me at ease. Even in his own bed, he had to hold back on my account. He turned off the light in the bathroom and approached me in the dark.
My pulse quickened when the mattress dipped under his weight—but for much different reasons than it had in the past. What would it be like if I just leaned over and kissed him? No warnings, no handcuffs. Only my lips touching his, my body pressed against him. How would it feel to be free and act on my desires? How would it be not to be shackled by the past?
“Are you alright?” Nino drawled.
How could he know? He hadn’t touched my wrist, so my pulse couldn’t have given me away. “Why do you ask?”
“Because your breathing changed. That’s usually a sign that you’re unsettled by something. Is it because of our kiss?”
I hesitated, wondering what to say, but opted for the truth. “Yes.”
“You changed your mind about the physical aspects of our marriage?”
I wished I knew what he was thinking. He said he wanted me, but maybe my kiss and the teary outburst afterward made him change his mind.
“No, I enjoyed our kiss,” I admitted.
“Good.”
That wasn’t quite the answer I’d hoped for. Had he enjoyed it as well? Did he want to kiss me again?
“Would you like to kiss again?”
It was sometimes scary how easily he could read me, even in the dark, even without understanding my emotions. The inner workings of Nino’s brain were completely inexplicable to me. “What do you want?”
He was quiet. “In terms of kissing or in general?”
“In general,” I whispered, my stomach tightening with nerves.
“Give me your wrist,” he said, and I complied. His thumb pressed against my pulse point, and I had to stifle laughter. It quickly died down when he started to speak in that low, deep voice.
“I want you in every regard. I want to kiss you, of course. I want to show you pleasure, Kiara.” My pulse galloped with every word. “I want to give you an orgasm with my mouth and my fingers. I want to taste you everywhere, and I want to ... sleep with you.”
I could tell he had wanted to use a different term, but he chose to soften his words for my benefit. My chest warmed at his consideration. Despite who he was, Nino would always represent safety for me.
“I know every spot on your body that will increase your arousal. If you let me, I’ll make you come again and again.”
I swallowed audibly. My core seemed to liquefy, throbbing with a need I hardly understood.
He tapped my wrist. “Fear?”
I laughed nervously because right now fear was only a small flicker in the corners of my consciousness. “No,” I admitted in the softest whisper.
Nino waited patiently for me to say more. As my eyes grew used to the dark, I could make out the outline of his strong shoulders. He was facing me, breathing calmly, relaxed. Those words ... didn’t they affect him?
“Arousal?”
I gave a nod, not sure if he could see it.
“Good,” came his low voice.
I shivered. “And you?”
“Are you asking if I’m aroused?”
I nodded.
“I am,” he said.
My pulse really started racing. “Kiara?”
“Both,” I said quickly, because I was equally scared and aroused by his admittance.
“What can I do to banish your fear?”
“Nothing,” I said, because deep down I knew it was a battle I had to fight on my own. “But I want to try something.”
“Okay,” he said slowly.
“Can we kiss without you being restrained?”
“Of course. Now?”
“Yeah,” I said quietly and scooted a bit closer to him until his warm breath fanned over my face and the sheer volume of heat radiating from his body told me how big he was, how much taller and stronger.
I caught the hint of alcohol on his breath, something smoky and spicy. “You smell like ... bourbon?”
“I had a glass,” he said. “But you don’t have to be concerned. It’s not enough to lower my inhibitions. Not even close.”
“I’m not concerned about that.” I leaned closer until his face hovered right in front of me, and then I bridged the remaining distance between us and pressed my lips to his. He waited a couple of seconds before he increased the pressure, and his tongue slipped between my lips, exploring my mouth. His fingertips moved up from my wrist, stroking the soft skin of my forearm, the crook of my elbow, then a little higher before trailing back down. Finally, his thumb pressed against my wrist again.
He did it because he needed it to read me better, to make sure he noticed when I felt overwhelmed or scared. That realization did a strange thing to my heart.
We kissed for a long time, and I started to feel hot between my legs. Nino’s kisses were incredible, overwhelming; he led easily without making me feel like I was under his control. His breathing deepened ever so slightly as his mouth slid over mine, and the friction sent a new surge of heat through my core. I squirmed, pressing my thighs together. If Nino noticed, he didn’t react, but his grip on my wrist tightened the slightest bit.
I put my free hand up against his naked chest and felt his muscles flex beneath my fingertips. His skin was covered with scars, and I began tracing them curiously until I accidentally grazed over his nipple. He groaned into my mouth, jerking slightly, and the motion caused something hard dig into my thigh.
I froze against him. Fear and my own arousal battled within my body. He had told me he was aroused, but feeling it made things more real.
He stopped kissing me and took a deep breath. “Tell me how you feel.”
“I’m okay.”
“That’s not a feeling.”
“I’m feeling okay,” I said again with more force. “Only startled.”
“Maybe we should stop, then.”
I didn’t want to stop, but maybe Nino was right. Even if my body screamed for more, I wasn’t sure if I could actually handle it. I felt ... overwhelmed again. “You’re right.”
He released my wrist and rolled over onto his back, farther away from me. A gaping hole opened in my stomach. I swallowed hard once then a second time. I knew I told Nino I didn’t need him to fake affection, but maybe I was wrong.
Nino’s head shifted toward me. “You are upset again.”
I wasn’t sure how he’d noticed this time. Maybe my breathing had changed again.
“Okay,” he said quietly. He angled his body toward me. “Would you like to fall asleep in my arms?”
My throat tightened. I didn’t say anything and moved closer to him. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pulled me against him. His touch was light, never like a cage, always considerate. Stupid tears gathered in my eyes as I rested my cheek against his strong chest. His heart beat a calm rhythm. Did it ever speed up? Did it ever clench when he looked at me like mine sometimes did when I looked at him or like it had when I realized he always touched my wrist to make sure I was all right.
When I woke the next morning, Nino was gone. It was already past nine, so I missed watching him do laps in the pool. I went through my morning routine, put on shorts and a simple top, and headed downstairs. I walked through the main part of the house and into the kitchen. After making myself a quick breakfast of porridge, I decided to eat it outside so I could enjoy the beautiful weather. As I headed outside, the sound of a video game drew me into the gaming room. Adamo was in there again, focusing on a car race on the ginormous screen on the wall.
“Hey, Kiara,” he said without looking away from the game. “Fabiano brought over Leona this morning. She’s sunbathing in the garden.”
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
He gave me a strange look.
I smiled at him. “Never mind. Enjoy your game.” I hurried out of the French doors and down the small path to the swimming pool and lounge chairs. Just as Adamo had said, Leona was stretched out on one of them, reading a book. Something about the history of the Supreme Court. She glanced up as I approached, smiling, and put the book down on the table beside her.
“That doesn’t look like light reading,” I said, taking a seat on the chair across from her, my bowl of porridge wedged between my thighs.
“It’s not, but I want to prepare for college. I’m starting in a few months, and I don’t want to be completely clueless. What about you? Have you considered going to college?”